


Ice Cream Social

by fuzipenguin



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10783656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Murdock eats an ice cream cone in the van. BA objects.





	Ice Cream Social

**Author's Note:**

> reply the prompt "Murdock eating a melting ice cream, which leads to sex with Hannibal/Face/BA or all three. Whether Murdock's doing it innocently or to interest the others is up to anyone that fills this" from anon at the LJ community, a_team_kink. 
> 
> Originally posted to my LJ on 8-10-2010. Edited to repost here

                “You are _not_ eatin’ that in here,” BA stated. There was no room for argument in his tone, but Murdock turned wide, brown eyes to the large man in the driver’s seat, and BA knew, just _knew_ , that the fool was going to open his mouth and start babbling.

                “But, BA,” Murdock pointed out innocently, shutting the passenger door behind him, “if I don’t eat it, it’ll melt, and it’ll get all over the van. You don’t want a mess in the van, do you? Here. I got you one too!”

                Murdock shoved an ice cream cone practically in BA’s face, and his lip curled at the drips of  white that were already sliding down the edges of the cone.

                “I never said I wanted no ice cream!” BA grabbed the treat from Murdock’s hand and after rolling down his driver’s side window, chucked it out into the street.

                BA turned back to glare at Murdock, whose lower lip was trembling, actually _trembling_ , as he stared at the path the hapless ice cream cone had taken.

                “I thought you liked dairy products. And it’s a perfect day for ice cream, and…” Murdock ducked his head and sniffed, and BA did not feel bad. Not one bit, damnit.

                “I like ice cream,” BA admitted reluctantly. “Just not in the van. Hurry up and eat yours, fool! It’s dripping everywhere!” He shouted, noticing streams of vanilla making a path down Murdock’s fingers.

                The pilot sniffled again and licked at his cone, tongue swirling around the top of the creamy mountain, before tilting his wrist and catching the stray drops on his hand. BA turned his attention back to the street, mentally cursing out Hannibal for making him take this fool along on a simple reconnaissance.

                Out of the corner of his eye, BA watched Murdock continue to eat his treat. The man had developed a pattern; two complete licks around from top to bottom clockwise, then counterclockwise. Then a small bite from the top of the pile of soft serve. Then repeat. It was almost mesmerizing, the contrast of Murdock’s pink tongue against the whiteness of the ice cream. Licking, swirling, nibbling… again and again and again....

                Then Murdock made a happy little murmur in the back of his throat, and BA turned his full attention to the other man.

                “Mmm, it’s good. You’re missing out, BA,” Murdock said, never able to keep silent for too long. Murdock tilted his arm again to catch a drop that had slid all the way down to his bony wrist. Sticking his tongue out, he drew a slow, wet path up his thumb, sucking lightly at the junction between the digit and the rest of his hand, before smacking his lips together and grinning at BA.

                “You sure you don’t want none?” Murdock held out his almost finished cone in invitation. “You look like you’re droolin’ a bit there.”

                BA eyed the ice cream, and then Murdock’s face, a smudge of white at the corner of his cold-swollen lips. With a growl, BA grabbed the cone and threw it over his shoulder, out the still open window. Reaching forward with both hands, he grabbed Murdock’s shirt and yanked the pilot half out of his seat, forcing his mouth against BA’s own. Murdock’s lips were chilly, and his tongue tasted like sweet vanilla when BA sucked on it. Moaning quietly, Murdock’s lips parted under BA’s assault and he leaned even further across the open space between their seats.

                Then his hands scrambled at BA’s shoulders, pushing backwards with a gasp. “Bosco, Bosco, look!” Murdock said, pointing out the windshield. The targets that he and Murdock were supposed to be tailing were just pulling away from the curb in a non-descript sedan.

                BA groaned in disappointment and reluctantly reached for the gearshift. His hand paused as he noted that smear of white still at the corner of Murdock’s mouth. BA’s hand changed direction and he and wiped the drop away with his thumb. Before he could yank his hand back, Murdock grabbed BA’s wrist and leaned down. Dark eyes shining mischievously up at BA, Murdock quickly licked the ice cream off BA’s digit.

                Pants tightening uncomfortably, BA shifted in his seat. He pulled his hand out of Murdock’s grasp and glowered meaningfully at the other man. “No more eatin’ in the van.”

                Murdock narrowed his eyes at the challenge. Then he abruptly grinned and leaned back into his seat. “Sure, Bosco. Whatever you say, big guy.”

                BA had the feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time Murdock brought food into the van. But if it led to making out, well. Maybe he could be a little bit more lenient on just this one rule.

 

~ End 


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